


pretty things

by sadcrabby



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-22 00:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14925896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadcrabby/pseuds/sadcrabby
Summary: Nijimura always finds himself staring at pretty things.





	pretty things

**Author's Note:**

> short snippet thing which I have not edited _(:3 pls feed me comments - it helps to keep my flame burning ;3

Nijimura always had a weak spot for pretty things. 

He finds it rather like a challenge to tear his obvious gaze from them and keep all temptation at bay all the while. Nonetheless, he always does his best to stray away from whatever happens to catch his eyes more than it should. 

Because temptation is a deadly desire; a fire he’s not quite ready to handle.

But there’s no denying that Akashi Seijuro happens to fall into the category of pretty things; he’s figured that much by the time he’s frozen still in his place within the locker room, staring into the fine lines of his collarbone, his own eyes resting on the image of his shoulders, unknowing of the moisture in his damp hair until it glides down his neck in glistening drops of water. He especially eyes the way the pale pink spreads across his shoulder like faded cherry blossoms, most likely induced by the hot shower steam. His neck is pretty too, unmarked except for the slight shade of pink; he kinda wants to press his lips to it, mark it with the edge of his teeth against the unmarked canvas of his skin. After all, it’d look better with a tinge of purple amidst his enticing complexion. 

However, any chances of him being able to do so is swept underneath the slight weight of disappointment, the sight swiftly concealed by the thin attire of the blue dress shirt. Despite that, he’s quite grateful for it actually; as much as he would like to let his temptation run wild and untamed from the leash of forced discipline he’s set down on it, he’s helpfully reminded by the rational part of him that, one: he’s his senpai and that two: he’d never do anything that could shatter the trust Akashi has for him and the last thing he wants to do is frighten him off with his advances. 

So like the good gentleman he is, he holds back whatever urges try to edge closer to his impulses and instead, refrains himself from stripping off the offending material and all that separates him from that cool contact of skin against skin. 

The voice that calls for him, snaps him out of his stupor before he even realises. He hasn’t noticed but Akashi had already turned to him. 

“Is there anything you need?” He prompts innocently, that utterly annoying, unknowing look in his eyes. Nijimura can’t help but zone in on that exposed skin that’s displayed when the other tilts his head in query.

It becomes increasingly difficult to stray away from the sight in front of him; stray drops of water running along the ridge of Akashi’s collarbone, water dripping from the fine ends of his scarlet hair, that pleasant pink flush on his cheeks and the subtle flutter of his eyelashes. Nijimura knows it’s just because of the hot shower he had recently dowsed himself in, but the suggestive effect of such a look makes his mind wander into an imaginative haze. His mussed red hair and the bright flush on his cheeks kinda makes him look as if he had just went through a round of hot, steamy se—

“Nijimura-san?” The feel of wet fingers against his cheek jolts him awake, “Is anything the matter?

Nijimura wonders whether he’s cursed with this imagination, or blessed. 

He snaps his head to the side, avoiding his curious stare and hiding the heat raging on his face. 

“No.” He stammers out, barely tripping over the stutter that catches on his tongue. He turns his back around to face his own locker, pretending to busy himself with folding a spare towel. It fumbles clumsily in his fingers. “Everything’s fine.”

“You looked a little troubled a moment ago.” Is Akashi’s light response. 

Nijimura shoves the messily-folded towel into the locker and closes it, shutting away both the folded material and the wild fantasies in his head, “All in your mind, don’t worry.” 

He really should stop staring at pretty things.


End file.
